Timetables
by Gemma The Human
Summary: It was Bonnibel Bubblegum's first day back at high school, and so far it was not going well. Her boyfriend, Guy, had cheated on her, she had no idea where her classes were and she now smelt of smoke, thanks to a one Marceline Abadeer and her friends. Hints at Filoee. Rated M for the smutty last chapter.
1. Chapter 1

My name is Bonnibel Bubblegum, and yes, I've already heard all the jokes and puns about it. I attend a high school that I'm not particularly proud of attending, and I am one of the most awkward girls you could meet. At first glance I seem in control and at ease, but I'm not. I'm missing something, something I expected my studies to help me discover. But it hasn't been found yet.

Recently I've had boyfriends, I've had a few, but they never felt right. I told myself it was because I'm young and they were stupid boys. Because they were, they were really dumb and selfish and arrogant. It was around this time that I met her.

Marceline Abadeer.

I had seen her around my school a few times, never said hello or introduced myself. I had all the friends I needed, and I had other things to worry about. I was failing my classes, my parents thought I was depressed and my boyfriend, Guy, had cheated on me with his band mate. So being polite was not exactly at the top of my to do list at the time.

I was sitting outside at lunch near the smoking area. Well, it wasn't officially a smoking area, it was a high school yard after all. In truth it was just a corner with a crumbling brick wall, a fence and a patch of neglected grass. Classy,right? I didn't smoke myself, but I liked it there.

Marceline was leaning with her back and her right foot pressed flat against the wall, ignoring the chatter of her friends, and taking long slow drags of her cigarette. That was when she finally caught my attention. She looked so tired and world-weary, like she was bored because she had everything figured out. She looked like she owned the very air around her, and that was amazing for someone like me, someone who wanted to fade away in the background. Her hair was striking black, pulled back into a long ponytail and she didn't wear makeup. She didn't really need to, she was already attractive. Unlike all the other girls around here that face-planted their makeup in the morning, ending up a dark orange with too much black around their eyes. She was m

She was much more attractive than I. The name Bonnibel, I find it ironic and cruel, as it means attractive. Or if preferred: fine, or pretty. And I don't see myself as any of that.

I have long hair, long because of my disinterest in hairstyles so I never felt the need to ask for a trim. It was brown, a light mousey brown that I always hated. My face is chubby, a chubby my mother always said was adorable but I found awful, it caused me to look much younger than I really was. My one redeeming feature would be my eyes, they were blue, deep and light if that was even possible. Though, no one ever paid attention to my eyes. Eye contact has never been a fun thing for me, and most of the time my eyes are glued to a book or a theory paper.

I like science, or much better, I like facts. I like to know the ins and outs of everything I possibly can, hard solid evidence is much better than a gut feeling or an emotional guess.

And that was why I had sworn off emotional attachments in high school. Emotions clouded judgements and changed viewpoints, and that was something I really didn't need. I planned on majoring in science and law when I left for college, that takes dedication and drive. Not messing around at late night on the beach, hiding a cheap bottle of cider in a bag when the police would show, as they always did.

I had never done that, all I know is what I had heard from students at my school. They'd laugh about how they had their names taken by police, being proud as if they had achieved something. No, I never saw the attraction to that.

I sighed and looked back down at my book, opened at a page I hadn't even attempted to read yet. It was the beginning of the new school year, which meant my timetable had changed. I needed to pick two extra classes, not connected to my main choice; Science. I had chosen Art and Music. Which in hindsight was a really bad choice. You needed some level of skill to succeed in those, skill I will probably never posses. The book I was trying to read, _The Colour of Art, _seemed easy enough to get through. All it contained was pictures and explanations of brush strokes and control, still I found it hard to concentrate.

"Hey, Princess." I knew who it was before I even turned. It was Guy, _Princess _was his pet name for me. I hated it for two reasons: I had never felt like a princess, and it felt like a cruel joke. The second was the fact he had first heard it used on a soppy old film we watched. He couldn't even find the time to think up with own term of endearment.

No, it was actually three reasons that pissed me off. The new addition being that we had just broken up, he had no right to use that.

"Leave me alone." I sighed, knowing that of course he wouldn't. He was persistent, refusing to ever leave things be. Much like an itchy rash.

I pulled my bag around and shoved my books inside, probably crumpling up all of my worksheets and notes as I did so.

"Oh come on," He whined as I pushed myself up and away from the wall I was sat on. "Can we talk?"

"What about?" I asked, though I never intended to hear his answer. "About how I never heard a thing about your band mates until you slept with one? About how we were _dating _when you did it? About how badly you hurt me, and how embarrassed you made me feel?"

"Well, uh..." He was following me, I hated that. I didn't know where I was going, I only knew I wanted to be away from him. At this rate we'd be walking forever, caught in an endless game of cat and mouse. "I wouldn't word it like that."

"Whatever it is you wanna say to me, say it to Kay."

"Her name is Keila." Guy mumbled, staying behind me.

I stopped walking and spun on him too quick, my book bag slipped from my shoulder and crashed to the floor, spilling books across the concrete. We had ended up much closer to the crowd smoking in the corner, all their heads snapped up at the sound of my belongings hitting the ground.

"I don't care what her name is, Guy." I threw my arms above my head before crossing them in front of me. "I don't give a stuff about her, or _you _for that matter."

I expected him to look shocked, or mad or upset. He just looked embarrassed, but not of what he had done. The crowd around us had began to murmur, and I was sure it was about us. Everyone else was still, there was nothing else to whisper about. And of course, some people were laughing quietly, waiting to see what would happen next.

"Look, it didn't..." He must have seen the look on my face. If he so much as thought about saying the cliché _it didn't mean anything _line, I would flip. "You love me, okay. I know you do. Can't we just forget all about this and move on?" He almost begged.

Okay, so he didn't say the cliché line, but I still flipped.

My hands seemed to move on their own, one grabbed at his collar and the other left a scorching red hand print on the side of his face. The sound of the slap echoed around us, and secretly I was proud of how loud it was. My palm stung like hell the second I hit him, so his skin mustn't have felt much better.

_Good._

There were a few whistles and gasps around us, some laughing and some mumbling.

As my rage started to subside, I grew embarrassed. There I was, standing in the middle of a large group, one hand red and another still holding on to Guy's collar. Everyone had seen it, everyone had heard those details of my now ruined relationship. My face was bright pink, I could tell, hopefully those around me just mistook it for rage and not shyness.

"Alright everyone," I heard from behind me. "Show's over."

"But, Marceline," So that's who it was. The girl leaning against the brick wall. Marceline Abadeer. I didn't know much about her, but then again no one did. She kept herself to herself, emotionally that is, but she was fairy well-known. From what I'd heard, Marceline got on with a lot of different types of people. A regular social butterfly who knew the right crowds. Or the wrong ones. It all depends on what side of the track you're from. "I haven't even-"

"Marshall, come on. Bit of privacy, yeah?" Marceline said, tilting her head in my direction.

His eyes followed hers and he paused to take in the sight of Guy and I. I must have looked like a walking train wreck to him. He blinked and then gave me a tiny smile, one that almost said _sorry about the audience. _He was handsome, dark brown eyes behind black hair that fell in front of them, and he had a kindness to his face that I took to. I offered him a smile in return, one I hoped said _thanks for not looking at me like I'm crazy. _

"Alright, guys. Stub 'em out." He ordered lightly, extinguishing his own cigarette before flicking the butt over the fence. "Fi, you said you needed help with something?"

The short blonde girl on his arm jumped a little, apparently away with the fairies before Marshall addressed her. I knew her, kind of. She was Finn's cousin, moved here to be closer to her family a few months ago. Anyone could see the resemblance between the two, they both had this amazing mane of blonde hair, Fionna wore hers down when Finn always hid his under a tattered white beanie. I'd heard that Fionna had become fast friends with Marshall Abadeer, the friends part shocked me a little. They always seemed like much more.

"Oh, yeah man, this math work is killin' me." Fionna said, bringing her hand up to drag a hand down her face. The action made me smile a little.

As those two walked away, the rest of the group followed, most separating to go about their normal school day. It was still lunch period, so I had no idea where they were all going. It seemed like they all paid attention to Marceline and Marshall, thought I didn't think it was out of fear. Perhaps it was something else, respect most likely. Those two knew how to carry themselves, people are drawn to that. I was at least.

We were almost alone now, Guy and me, and I expected Marceline to turn and leave too, but she surprised me.

"Guy," She sighed, pushing loose thread of hair out of her eyes. "What did you do?"

"What?" I backed away from Guy, realizing then that I was too close for my comfort. Even if we weren't even in touching distance anymore. "You know each other?"

Marceline looked at me like I was insane. Then something seemed to click inside of her and she turned to Guy, raising an eyebrow as she did.

"We're band mates." She said, not taking her eyes off my ex. "Would have thought Guy told you that."

He just stood there, rubbing his probably sore face, not looking at either of us.

"Obviously not." She shrugged then looked back at me. "Marceline Abadeer."

For a split second I thought she was referring to me as Marceline, I almost frowned. Then I of course realized it was her way of introduction. It was one embarrassment after another.

"Bonnibel." I murdered, extending a hand for her to shake. Why I felt the need to be so formal, I still do not know. She didn't even glance at my hand, so I withdrew it, feeling dumb. "Bonnibel Bubblegum." I said quieter.

"Bubblegum?" Marceline asked, looking at Guy. It was like she was asking him if I was telling the truth. He nodded, finally taking his hand away from his cheek. It was then I saw the hand print there, and I allowed myself a smirk of victory.

"For real?" She smirked, thought it didn't seem mean. I thought she was going to make some joke or laugh, like most others had when they heard my surname. I'd been asked if my parents were high when they named me, or if it was really the family name and if I'd legally changed my last name to Bubblegum. Truth is, I don't even like Bubblegum enough to do that. Marceline wasn't mean about it, instead she surprised me again.

"Cute."

And that was it, the end of our first conversation, just as awkward as I was.

"Guy, I think you have some explaining to do."

He looked at Marceline, finally taking his eyes off the floor, and frowned. "We had an argument and I wanna move past it. If Bon can forgive me anyway." His eyes traveled to mine, but I turned away.

"Not what I meant, man." Marceline's eyes shut, as if she was dealing with a stubborn child and she was tired of it. "Tell _her_ why you did it, say you're sorry and mean it, all that junk. I'm not the one who needs to hear it."

"Y-yeah." He stammered, as if Marceline was his mother telling him he had to apologize for pulling a girls pigtails.

"And don't think she has some duty to forgive you either, got it?" At his nod she finished up. "See you at practice And I'll see you around." She said the last part to me with a nod. I nodded back and threw her a small smile when I felt a little too formal again.

It was... surprisingly nice, to say the least. Marceline didn't seem like the type to jump to a random girls defense, especially when that girl just slapped her band mate. She wore her school tie too low, never wore her blazer and wore boots instead of school appointed foot wear. All stereotyped pointed to her being the kind of person to look after herself, but obviously that stereotype was wrong. About Marceline Abadeer at least.

After she rounded the corner, ends of long hair following her a second after, Guy took a step towards me. He only took the one after seeing me back away from him again. We stood in silence for a while, him rubbing his arm awkwardly and me trying to look like I wouldn't think twice about hitting him again. The stench of smoke was still lingering in the air and I had no doubt that it would probably still cling to me when I went to class, I'd have to ask Lady or LSP for some deodorant.

"Bon." He said it to get my attention, but I just couldn't look at him. It hurt, looking at him made me remember that he didn't want me. Not enough to actually stay faithful to me. I felt pathetic and used and like I was nothing. Not to him, probably not to anyone.

"I can't hear this right now." I said. I didn't wait for a reply, I just bent to pick up my dropped things. By then half of my notes had probably blown away or been trampled on, I hoped it didn't matter. They were notes from last years classes anyway. Still, I picked up all the sheets I could before grabbing my books and leaving, Guy trying to talk to me all that time.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! And before anyone goes off on one, yes, Marceline and Marshall did smoke in this chapter. But lately I've heard a lot about smokers being bad people. And I don't see how that makes sense, so I wrote about two good people smoking. Of course it's not gonna be a main plot point, it's just a little point I wanted to prove. **

**Anyway, would you like this to continue? I'm trying to get better at a full first person P.O.V so this kind of happened, but I have ideas for it. Let me know what you think?**

**Thank you for reading. **


	2. Chapter 2

I was late for class. First day back at school and I was late for a class. Great, awesome, _perfect. _I was stood at the lockers with LSP, she was rifling through her belongings trying to find some of her deodorant for me to use. I always felt pretty weird calling her LSP, her full name was Lorraine Susan Patton, but hated every one of those, so she was dubbed LSP for short.

"You know, I don't think I need it that badly. I've really got to get to class." I shuffled on my feet a little, watching as she shoved her arms even deeper into her locker.

"Nah, girl." LSP sang. "I know it's in here somewhere, it's fine."

"But I'm late, I really-"

"Nah, girl!" She said louder. "I've got it okay, I've got it."

She didn't have it. We were stood there an extra five minutes before she finally pulled out a little can and tossed it at me with a grin. I barely caught it before she told me to be careful with how much I use.

"Need to be smellin' fine for mah Brad later." LSP fake-fell into her locker, back of her hand attached to her forehead for dramatic effect. "That was me swooning, by the way."

"Yeah, I got it." I laughed, quickly spraying the fruity scent over me and passing it back to my friend. "I've got to get to art class though, so I'll see you later."

I was halfway down the hall when I heard her shout something, but I was too far away to hear or head back. "Later!" I shouted as loud as I could without disrupting the classes going on near the hall.

LSP was a long time friend of mine, we'd known each other almost all of our lives. We first met when we were really young at a playgroup our parents made us attend. One afternoon I was playing in the sandbox when I heard a bunch of the other kids yelling. I looked and saw LSP, homemade paper crown on her head, shouting about being a princess and everyone had to do what she said. That was when one of the carers went over and told her to behave, then she was put with me in the sandpit. I guess they thought I would settle her down; I was always so quiet at playgroup.

It was last year that she had dyed her hair purple, she said it brought out her eyes. How purple brought out the color brown I'll never really understand. But maybe that was the king of stuff I'd learn in art class. I was already in the right part of the building and soon found my assigned room. But peering in I only saw empty chairs and desks in the dark room. I checked my watch. Yes, definitely late, class should already be in session.

I grabbed at my bag, hoping I hadn't lost my timetable when I dropped my things at lunch, and thankfully found it crumpled up at the bottom amongst the broken pens I had never thrown away.

I almost slammed a fist to my forehead when I read the torn piece of paper, I didn't have Art after lunch. I had music class.

"Damn, how the hell did I get that mixed up?" I scorned myself, clicking the bag closed and throwing it back over my shoulder. School was important to me. Being punctual was important to me. And there I was running along the corridors trying to find the right room. It was not my day at all.

After running down one set of stairs, along a long corridor and up another set of stairs, I finally got to the right classroom. And I was only twenty minutes late. The entrance was going to be just awful.

I lingered at the door for a little while. Crowds were not really my forte, and walking into a crowded room, late and breathing heavily from a run was _definitely_not my forte. I wasn't even sure if I should knock or just walk in, if I should apologize to the teacher or just sneal in as quietly as I could. I wasn't even sure if there were any seats left. I took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

"...to fortissimo but you wont see that for- Ah, Miss Bubblegum. So glad you decided to join us."

I flinched at the use of my surname; it always cause a few giggles to erupt in the room. On the bright side, it didn't seem like I was in much trouble.

"I'm sorry, Sir." I said to Mr Petikrov who nodded and told me to take a seat. He was a good man and an even better teacher, he actually listened to his pupils and really wanted them to learn. Unlike a lot of the staff who seemed to only care about wages and possible pay rises.

I looked around the room, not letting my eyes linger in one spot for too long, and spied an empty desk in the middle row. I made my way towards it, careful to not hit anyone with my bag on the way past. As soon as I sat down I pulled out a notebook and a pen, scribbled on one of the pages to make sure it worked properly and was grateful when it did.

It was after about ten minutes of note taking that Marceline decided to show up to class. She opened the door and immediately stepped towards Mr Petikrov, said something, nodded in what looked like apology and turned to look for a seat. Of course the only one free was the one next to me. Well no, that wasn't strictly true. There was another seat, but it was next to a skinny guy with bags under his eyes who was always shaking and let his eyes dart around the room. If I was judgmental -which I have always tried not to be- I would have thought he looked a little like a drug addict, which honestly would not be surprising. There'd been a lot worse in this school.

Marceline smiled at me before heading my way, and I returned it with a shy one before returning to my notes. I felt the chair beside me move as she collapsed into it. I could see her looking at me from the corner of my eye, probably to say hello, but I just couldn't look up at her, embarrassment from lunch still settled deep within me. Soon she pulled out a small notebook and a pencil to jot down what the teacher was saying.

I got lost in my work after that, writing about pace and tempo, the basic introduction to the class. I found out a lot of my classmates didn't play musical instruments either, so I felt a little less out-of-place.

As I was writing about upcoming lessons, a note was slid my way by a thin, pale hand. I looked up at Marceline and she just tapped an index finger to the paper. I frowned a little before unfolding the note.

_I need to talk to you about something after class. It's about Guy. _

The first thing I noticed was her handwriting, it was beautiful. Another thing I didn't expect from her, it was neat with the letters looping into one another beautifully. Then I noticed what she had actually written and frowned again, trying my best not to roll my eyes. I took my pen and quickly wrote a reply.

_I don't want to talk about Guy. I know you're just being a good friend to him but I'm done with him now. _

Marceline went to reach for the note when the teacher looked up, pointed his finger at her and raised an eyebrow. She retracted her hand and crossed both of her hands over one another, grinning at him with an almost red face. I could have sworn Mr Petikrov smiled before turning back the board at the front of the room. I pushed the note towards her and she quickly skimmed it.

Rolling her eyes, she crunched up the paper in one hand and leaned over to me while the teacher still had his back turned.

"It's not like that," She whispered in my ear. "I'm probably being a _bad_ friend to him right now, so hear me out okay?"

She leaned back in her chair facing the front but keeping her eyes on me. I blinked and chewed on my bottom lip. She had peaked my interest with that. At her raised eyebrow I sighed and nodded. We didn't speak again during the lesson.

Eventually the lesson came to and end and I started to pack up my belongings while everyone but Marceline and I left. I was getting ready to leave the room until I heard Marceline address the teacher.

"Hey, Simon, do you have to work in here tonight? I need to talk to Bonnibel here." She said while jumping up to sit on the desk.

"I do, but I've been dreaming of grabbing a coffee for a while. Make it quick, Marcy."

"Sure thing." She smiled, swinging her legs.

He grinned at her before slipping out of the classroom, leaving us two alone.

"Simon?" I asked, jumping up to sit next to her on the desk.

"Uh, yeah." She shrugged. "We're pretty cool."

"Hm, I see. So..." It was the first time I'd been alone with Marceline. And I was comfortable, but being so comfortable so quickly made me uncomfortable. Yeah, it didn't make sense to me either. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Well, it's pretty weird, so I guess I'll just say it." She sighed and shook her head, twisting her body to face me.

I looked at her, as politely as I could whilst I waited.

Ten seconds.

Twenty.

Thirty...

"Don't think I'm saying this to get him out of trouble, because he really deserves to be in it, but I found something out at lunch. It was why I was late." She was staring at her shoes with purpose I didn't think those boots deserved. I was going to ask her what she heard but she continued without prodding. "Guy didn't sleep with Keila."

That was it. I pushed myself off the table, stretched over it to grab my bag and made for the door.

"Hey! No, wait!"

I heard scraping against the floor and knew she had came after me, but she was quicker than I thought. I went to reach for the door handle but a hand shot out from behind me, pressing flat against the door to keep it closed.

We stood that way for a while. Me facing the door, her facing my back with a hand still reaching over me. "That wasn't hearing me out." She growled. "Don't you walk out on me."

"How is that being a bad friend?" I spun around to face her, and was shocked to see how close she actually was. In any other situation, I would have blushed. But I was too angry. She had basically talked me into listening under false pretenses. Now there she was lying for Guy. "You're doing him a favor aren't you?" I all but shouted in her face.

She stared me down for a couple of moments, and I thought she wasn't ever going to move her hand, but she did. Marceline sighed roughly, her breath tickling my face, and backed away, giving me my personal space back.

"He didn't sleep with her. Keila wouldn't go near him, she's never wanted to. He only said he did." She wasn't looking at me anymore, she just looked tired of the situation. I could only imagine the conversation she'd had before class. "I dunno _why _he said it, but no way man, that didn't happen."

Everything in me just... stopped. I didn't understand. Why would he say he'd done it if he hadn't. Marceline could have been lying, but it wasn't as if this lie would get him out of trouble. So why would she say this? Unless it was true that is.

"I'm confused..." I rested my head against the door and shut my eyes. "Marceline, I don't understand. Why would he say that if it didn't happen? He didn't even deny it, not once."

She walked up to my side and leaned against the door with me. "I'm confused too, and it's not even my problem. But it's true, he told me himself."

I looked to my left so I could see her. "Is he still here?"

"Dunno, we've got practice at mine tonight though. Could tag along if you wanna talk to him. Gotta be when we're done though, I don't need him storming off before we've played."

"I'll think about it." I said after a while. I didn't want to see him, but now my head was all scronked up. How was I supposed to get anything done with all of this playing on my mind? No, I had to see him. To put him in his place if anything. "Actually, yes. I will come."

Marceline spent the next few minutes telling me when practice ended and explaining how to get to her house. She ended up explaining twice; there were a lot of twists and turns in her part of town. I had remembered most of it to the best of my ability when we heard my name being shouted around the halls.

We frowned at each other, then Marceline moved so I could open the door. Looking down the corridor I saw LSP shoving her head into every classroom she could find.

"Where you at BonBon?" She was yelling through each doorway, huffing and slamming the doors shut when she saw I wasn't there.

"I uh, gotta go." I mumbled to Marceline at my side. She laughed and nodded before slipping through the door I was holding open.

"Such a gentleman. Later, _BonBon._" She mocked, but strangely, I wasn't offended. Still, my face turned a little red and I had to turn to hide it.

I caught myself watching her leave, before I remembered she had brought a bag to class. I ran to the desk we shared earlier, yanked her bag from the floor and made for the hallway.

"Marceline!" I shouted, but it looked like she'd already headed towards the exit, lord knows which one. "Damn..."

As I was heaving both bags onto my shoulder, LSP caught sight of me at last.

"Hey, earlier I was tryin' to say that you didn't have art class, didn't need to run off. Wait...Marceline?" She asked when she made it next to me. "Marceline Abadeer?" I only nodded.

LSP looked at my shoulder, noticing me wrestling with the two bags, and pieced together that Marceline had forgotten hers.

"Maybe it was an excuse to see you again." She winked at me as we made our way to the lockers.

"Wrong." I sang. "I'm going over to her house tonight anyway, so there's no point in doing that." I caught LSP's grin but before she could open her mouth to make some rude comment I interjected. "I'm going to see Guy, before you even say anything."

Her grin dropped from her face as she launched into a rant about how girls shouldn't let men rule their life and how we're stronger without the male populus. Funny coming from her, not in an awful way -she was my friend after all- but she always had a man on her arm, so her advice seemed a little off. But I knew better than to interrupt LSP when she was halfway through a speech, last time I did she got angry but insisted on finishing anyway. I was sure she made that rant a lot longer just to prove a point too.

When she'd finished talking we were already stood outside of her locker. Before LSP put her locker combination in, she stood to stare at me. That was when it occurred to me that she must have asked me a question, or my opinion. I went for a safe bet answer.

"I agree with everything you said, as always." I smiled as sweetly as I could, honestly feeling bad that I'd stopped listening. My answer seemed to be what she wanted because she smirked and spun to grab her things.

The walk home was as it always was. LSP would talk about Brad, her new styling products and some girl called Melissa who I'd never actually had the pleasure of meeting. Whenever I'd ask about her, or ask what school she attended, LSP would throw herself into telling a story about what this Melissa had done recently. I never got any real answers so I simply stopped asking. Still, it was nice to see my friend so animated, I'll admit sometimes it would be equally as nice if she could calm down, but that just wouldn't be LSP.

I waved goodbye to her as we separated near my house, and adjusting the bags resting on my arm. I'd have to remind myself to return Marceline's later on. I thought about asking my uncle, Pepperwood, for a ride there but I didn't want to impose, and he probably wouldn't even be home. My uncle lived with me; he was more of a parent than an average uncle. He was understanding and kind, and best of all he kept me on the right track with my studies and everything else he could. Uncle Pepperwood was short and pale, but he always had these wonderful rosy cheeks, a constant blush painted on his face.

I searched my bag for my set of keys and smiled when I heard a rattle, pulling them out I attempted to unlock my door, but the key jammed. For one stupid moment I thought that the locks to my house had been changed, but laughing at myself, I shook it off. I held up the keys to my face, thinking something was caught on them, making them incompatible with the lock. But it wasn't my keys I was holding, they were Marceline's, I had apparently searched through the wrong bag.

I was about to put them back where they came from when something small and purple caught my eye. Hanging on a key chain was a tiny, little bear, Well, it could have been a bear. The little thing was too tattered and worn to tell, but perhaps it was manufactured to look that way. All in all, it was cute. Especially because it was Marceline's. She had always seemed so cool and distant. Who would have thought she'd have a pretty (sort of) teddy key chain? I ran my thumb across its face, as lightly as I could, fearing the smallest touch would loosen the one eye he had left. I put him back in Marceline's bag and rifled through mine, looking for my own set of keys to get inside.

I kicked off my shoes, dropped the bags and made my way upstairs, not bothering to shout my arrival to the household. My parents usually spent most of their time in the office they both managed, and Uncle Pepperwood was their personal assistant at the demand of my father. I'd have to leave a note if I left before they got back home.

Looking at the clock I realized I had plenty of time before I went to see Guy, which part of me was dreading and the other part... no, I just wasn't happy about it in the slightest. I wanted answers, I wanted to know who this Keila girl was and I wanted to know what had really happened. Not because I wanted to date Guy again, God no. It was kind of a closure deal for me, if I knew the truth then I could move past it all. If I _didn't_ find out the truth then I'd probably simmer in my own anger for a very long time. Or convince someone else to find out for me. Either way, my studies and mental state were not going to be great.

I fell down into my desk chair and pulled on my reading glasses, really I should have worn them at school and any other time I was doing close-work, but my glasses were large and round. Not the sleek, stylish ones I so wanted, and I thought I looked insane with them on. The glasses made my eyes look like they took over most of my head, so that's a no-go for wearing them outside of my house.

I settled down to get some studying in before I had to adventure my way to Marceline's house, but that ended up with me pressing my face to my desk and groaning. I had to no idea what I wanted to say to Guy when I saw him. At least he'd be worse off than me. He wasn't expecting me, so I'd take him by surprise. That was a small comfort for me.

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows, they make my day. **

**Next chapter will probably take a little bit longer because I've put off a bit of work that needs doing, but it shouldn't take too long. **

**Thank you for reading! **


	3. Chapter 3

My room was too pink for my liking. I couldn't even remember the last time I had redecorated, the wallpaper had been the same pastel pink for years. I tore my eyes from the wall, bored of looking at them, and glared down at the papers scattered in front of me. I just couldn't focus, so I pushed myself up and towards the wardrobe. Thankfully my wardrobe wasn't as pink and my bedroom, but it was just about as impressive. I threw on some jeans and a pull over hoodie, and folded my school clothes to rest on top of my bed. I unfolded and refolded so many times that I lost count. I needed something to make me busy, or at least feel busy. If I started thinking and fretting over what I wanted to say to Guy, I'd go insane. Maybe it would be better to be spontaneous with my words, or maybe I'd crash and burn and show myself up.

Either way, it was probably better not to think about it until I absolutely _needed _to. I decided it was unhealthy of me to walk circles around my room, so I wandered downstairs and into the kitchen. Finding a notepad proved to be harder than I thought so I wasted ten minutes looking through draws and under the kitchen table until I saw the notebook peeking down at my from atop the fridge. I jumped up to grab it and to my surprise it didn't slip from my fingers, maybe failure was avoiding me today. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

After grabbing a pen, which proved easier than finding the notepad, I tore a page free and wrote _Gone out, wont be late, love B. _I added a kiss on the end too.

What time had Marceline said band practice finished? Six thirty? Looking at the clock told me it was only five thirty. I groaned. Waiting was never my favorite thing. Well, perhaps not the waiting itself, but the thinking time that came along with it. It was nervous thinking I hated most. With all of this spare time to think, it hit me that Keila would most likely be there with Guy. The girl who Guy cheated on me with. Or had cheated... Or lied about cheating. God, who knows what had happened?

Tired of standing stock-still in the kitchen, I made my way to the living room, but didn't feel like lazing on the couch or watching TV. Instead I went to the front door, picked up both mine and Marceline's bag and left my house, remembering to lock the door before I set off.

The walk helped clear my head a little at least. It was getting slowly darker, the sun falling behind the horizon, but the darkness was nothing to be worried about. My neighborhood was a quiet one; all curfews and perfectly mowed lawns. The only trouble around would usually happen on the other side of my little town. That thought settled me until I remembered that the other side of town was exactly where I was heading.

Thankfully, I didn't run into many problems. The only thing that really happened was a seemingly drunk man almost stumbled into me. For one dreadful moment I thought he was attacking me, until his friend looped an arm around him and pulled them both upright.

"I'm so sorry." Said the man who looked sober. "Sam here started early." The drunk man, Sam, lifted his head to look at me and slurred out what sounded like an apology.

"It's no problem." The sober man nodded and smiled before leading his friend down the street.

Soon I was stood outside of a neat little house with a well-kept garden, there were no flowers but the lack of overgrown weeds made up for it. I was instantly sure it was Marceline's house, the light rock drifting from the closed garage made me sure. Her band actually sounded pretty good until a loud clattering of drums stopped the music in its tracks.

"Sorry, Mar." I heard a deep voice say.

"No problem. Again." That was Marceline. A bass guitar picked up, quickly followed by another guitar, drums and finally a keyboard. So Guy was definitely in there. That made me wonder if I could forgive myself for turning around, heading home, staying in bed and ignoring this mess until it all just... Went away. Somehow. I didn't have time to do any of that because Marceline's front door was slowly creaking open.

"I knew I saw someone out here." Marshal said, perhaps to himself. "Bonnibel, right?"

I nodded.

"You here to see Marceline?"

I nodded again until I remembered that conversations usually require two parties. "Kind of, she said I could come over after practice to talk to Guy but..." I gestured towards the closed garage door.

"Oh right." He looked thoughtful for a second. Man, he really looked like his sister. "You could come hang with us 'til they're done, if you want? Some dumb talent show is on, but it's fun to watch Fionna yell at the TV."

I was more of a _Discovery Channel_ kind of girl, but Marshal was right, that did sound like fun. "Okay."

HE moved to let me inside and shut the door behind me. "It's just this way." He said, heading towards the last door of the small hallway. It might have been a little rude of me, but I was curious about the photographs framed along the wall. This particular photo caught my eye; a photo of two men grinning down at two identical children of about five or six years. I knew it was Marceline and Marshal right away, but it was hard to tell which was which. They both had short tufts of black hair, unbelievable considering how Marceline's hair now hung around her waist.

"Hey Marshal, can I ask you something?" He stopped walking and caught sight of my staring at the tall graying man standing next to who I guessed was their father. Black hair and strong cheekbones giving him away.

"Oh, yeah." Marshal joined me and pointed to the man wearing glasses. "That's Simon. I guess you know him from school, Mr Petikrov? He's a family friend, good man."

I nodded, so that was why Marceline was so casual with Mr Petikrov in the classroom. I had no more questions about the photographs so we walked to the living room where Fionna was indeed yelling at the television set. "She can't even sing! What the flip man? I bet you only voted for her because she has such big-"

"Fionna!" Marshal yelled, ushering me in the room to shut the door. "We have company." He waggled a playful finger at her before laughing.

Fionna jumped up from her place on the couch and came over to me. "Oh, hey! You're Bonnie right? From that fight thing at lunch?" It was an embarrassing way to be remembered, but her grin was infectious, so I returned one as I grabbed her outstretched hand.

"Yeah, Bonnibel. But Bonnie's fine."

"You wanna watch this with us?" Fionna jerked a thumb at the TV behind her. "All the bad acts are getting through, but some of them are soo funny!"

I didn't have time to reply before she bounced back to the couch and patted the space near her. I took the hint and plopped down next to her, Marshal taking his space the other side of Fionna. It was fun, spending time with them both. Fionna fist pumped when good acts got voted in and booed when the bad ones got voted in too. There was one point when a dance group of what looked like real life_ Barbie_ dolls got on stage and, well... wiggled was the best word it. The judges all let them through into the next round and Fionna sank to the floor in what looked like agony.

"What the hell was that junk!" She yelled, trying to claw her way back on to her seat, but apparently her grief wouldn't allow it.

It was then that the music provided by Marceline's band faded out. Marshal turned the TV volume down, not needing it on so high now, and looked at me.

I gulped, trying to get rid of the nervous lump in my throat. "I guess that's my cue."

He frowned with what looked like sympathy whilst Fionna nodded sadly at me, apparently filled in on what I was about to do. "Hey, we should hang out more man, you're pretty cool."

I'd never been called cool before, I could feel a triumphant, if not a little shy, smile threaten to spill out on my face. But now was not the time for smiling. "Sure, that'd be great."

"Garage door is on the left." Marshal told me. "You need any help, we'll be here."

I was going to tell him I'd be fine, but I didn't know that, so I nodded in thanks and left the room. I found the door leading into the garage and lingered for a second, listening to the voices through the door.

"Should I leave the board here, or take it?" That was Guy.

"Uh, take it. Haven't decided on where we're meeting up next." That was Marceline's voice.

After deciding it was creepy to standing behind doors, I took a deep breath and eased it open. The band was packing up, putting instruments away and chatting about speed and tempo.

A girl noticed me, smiled a little, I smiled back. "Hey, Mar." She said.

"'Sup Keila?" So that was her. I instantly regretted smiling at her. As much as I hated to admit it, she was really pretty. Beautiful in fact. Keila's skin was flawless and the color of smooth, perfectly brewed coffee. Black hair was sprung up around her head in a loose afro, and her face looked like it had been created in an art studio. I suddenly very small, and very plain.

Her dark eyes were on me, and it angered me to see worry painted there. "Hey, are you alright?" Keila asked me. Guy looked up at her question, his eyes immediately finding mine.

I gulped a second time, trying to gain some confidence before I spoke. "So." I began, thankful my voice wasn't as shaky as I felt. "You're Keila, huh?"

Marceline's head snapped up at the sound of my voice. "Time to sort things out." She whispered, but her voice traveled far through the almost silent room.

Keila pulled her eyes from me to look a Marceline, who sighed and put her red bass down on a makeshift stand.

"This is Bonnibel, And you are _so_ not gonna like why she's here." Marceline explained to her, glaring at giving Guy a pointed stare. I don't think he noticed, he was still staring at me.

"What? Why?" Keila's head spun around to look at everyone, almost asking if they knew what was going on. I would have felt sorry for her if I wasn't so pissed. "What have I done?"

"Oh, it's not you who's done something.." I said, proud of how my voice was holding out, even when I was the most uncomfortable I'd felt in a long time. "Or maybe you have, that's why I'm here. To find out."

Guy stepped out from behind his keyboard, man I hated that thing. I don't know why. Maybe because it was his property, I don't know. All I knew was I was resisting the heavy urge to walk over there and flip the damn thing. "Uh, Bon, can I talk to you?"

"Well, Guy. That's what I'm here to do." I crossed my arms.

"I mean like, in private?" He glanced around the room.

"Oh." I fake gasped, trying my best to make sarcasm drip from my words. "I'm sorry. Am I embarrassing you? I wonder what _that _feels like."

While it was true I was probably also embarrassing myself, I really didn't care. Mainly because it felt good to sass Guy after what he had done, but also because I caught the grin Marceline sent my way. She looked like she was biting back laughter, and I knew it wasn't aimed at me. How I knew? Well, she kept looking at Guy and blowing air through her nose when he shuffled. I saw her shake her head a few times though. She looked like she was going through an internal struggle.

Laugh at Guy, or be a good friend? I don't think she could quite decide yet.

"Look, I'm sorry." Guy said, raising his arms. "Can we talk about this somewhere else though?"

I'd had enough. I'd barely been there for five minutes, but I was over the situation. "Uh, no. Hey, Keila?" I kept my eyes on Guy, but watched the girl at the edges of my vision.

"Yeah?" I could have sworn the stuttered. I couldn't blame her. If the rage I was feeling was coming across on my face, I'd stutter too.

"Did you sleep with Guy?" No point beating around the bush. And the reactions around the room were fun to see.

The guy (whose name I didn't know) behind the drums looked like he had no idea where he was or what was happening. Keila looked like she's been slapped in the face. Guy looked like he was going to pass out. And Marceline...

Well, Marceline was laughing.

Full on struggling-for-breath laughing.\

"I'm sorry, Guy." She gasped, turning to face him. "I really am but... Man, I'd hate to be you right about now."

Guy looked at her like he either wanted to hit her, or hide his blushing face in her hair. I felt bad, honest. His friend of, I don't really know how long, was laughing at his misfortune. Which sucked for him, but I saw it as karma. Cold, hard, justified karma. I could tell Marceline felt bad too, a look of real apology was on her face when she glanced at Guy. She was probably going to be yelled at when I left. I doubted Guy could hold his own against her though, so I wasn't too worried.

"Whoa, what?" Keila said once she regained her composure. Then looked like she was caught between surprise and humor herself. "Are you serious? Me and Guy?"

I just looked at her. Keila laughing was not something I was going to enjoy.

"You're serious..."

I just nodded as slowly as I could.

"Dude, no." She looked shocked, truly shocked. Maybe Guy had made it up after all. Now I just needed to know why, so I spun on him, hands planted to my hips.

It seemed that Keila had the same idea, she spun too. Now we were standing side by side, both facing Guy. I was happy to see him looking so uncomfortable. Maybe I shouldn't have been, but I couldn't help it. Keila and I must have looked formidable. I knew I was angry, so she must have been to. She'd been dragged into this lie from someone she thought was her friend, that can't have felt good.

Marceline had stopped laughing by now, and joined the two of us. She didn't seem as mad as us, though she had no reason to be.

"Think you better spill, don't you think?" She said, tilting her head and giving him a serious look.

Guy's eyes flicked between the three of us, then back to the heavy built drummer behind him, he only shrugged. Wordlessly, he made his way over to a slightly tattered couch and took a seat. He glanced at me, unable to hold my eyes for too long. I guess that was Guy's way of asking me to sit down, so I made slow, deliberate steps towards the deck chairs opposite him. The garage seriously needed organizing, garden furniture didn't look right inside, but it was cozy. Cozy in a topsy-turvy sort of way.

Keila followed me and plonked down on the chair to my left. I suppose she wanted to know the truth too, I couldn't blame her but I wasn't about to get all friendly with her, so I kept my eyes forward. The phrase _the enemy of my enemy is my friend _came to mind, but it didn't really fit the situation we were in. It wasn't an all out war, though I felt like causing one. My frustration knew no bounds.

I contained myself enough to sit on the uncomfortable plastic chairs, and carefully listened to Guy's explanation. It was the most childish thing, I would have laughed if deep anger hadn't settled in my gut.

"It was dumb." Guy pushed brown her from his eyes as he began. "I was talking to this bloke, Shane something. Huge player, kind of a douche, but his uncle runs that radio station out of town. He said he could totally get our tracks played, if they were good enough."

Marceline almost sprinted over and planted her hand on the back rest of the sofa. "Really?"

"Yeah, but... It didn't swing." Guy sent her a look that screamed _sorry, I tried _before continuing. "Well anyway, I had to be on good terms with him so we were talking. He asked me about girls, so I told him I'm with you... Or was." He mumbled.

I frowned and rolled my eyes. Sympathy was something I just couldn't conjure up for him right then. Keila coughed from beside me. "Yeah, that's all great. Where exactly do I fit into this?"

Guy was silent for a while, frowning and chewing the inside of his cheek.

"He asked how many people I'd uh, been with. I just wanted to be cool with him, you know, for the band. I panicked, said your name. He twisted it around so much, made this whole cheating story thing up, it got messy." He dropped his head into his hands. "I'm so sorry, to both of you."

Well, that threw me. He had lied, yes. But it was to impress a boy who could have helped him and the band out. I didn't know if I even had the right to be angry anymore, he hadn't _technically _done anything wrong. Sort of. I pinched the bridge of my nose and felt a rough sigh escape me. This was all so stressful, and I doubted yelling and pushing things over was going to help me any. It would have helped me look like a nutjob, but that wasn't the look I was going for. I needed to think, to get out of this dim room and process this. I couldn't do that when everybody was looking at me.

I stood, apparently very quickly because everyone jumped. "I... Uh." I had no idea what I wanted to say, so I didn't say anything, just left the room.

"For God's sake Guy, sit down." Marceline scolded Guy from somewhere behind me, and then I heard footsteps. I hoped Guy had taken notice to Marceline and wasn't the one coming after me, I couldn't even look at him. Or I'd punch that nose back into place. Anger and confusion had never been a good chemical cocktail for me; it made my head spin. It was spinning now in a sickly, heavy way. I needed air.

I made it to the front door and scooped down to retrieve my bag, that was when I remembered I'd brought Marceline's along too. I thought about lingering at the garage door and shouting that I'd leave her things out in the hall, but it seemed I didn't have to suffer through going back.

Marceline had stepped in the hallway and was looking at me like she expect me to either pass out or cry. "You forgot to take your bag earlier." I said before she could ask if I was alright, because I knew she would, and I didn't know if I _was_ alright.

"Oh." She took it from my outstretched hand and a little part of me wished our fingers had brushed. I needed some form of human contact, anything to ground me. Otherwise I would spin off in a ball of negative, confusing emotions. It felt that way at least. "Thanks." She said, hanging her back on a hook.

"It's fine."

My hand was already resting on the doorknob so I yanked the door open, fully ready to throw myself into the cool night air. It was almost pitch black outside then, not a star to be seen in the sky. Lampposts littered the street in a seemingly random pattern and the bulbs were very, very dim. Not the most inviting sight in the world, I was not looking forward to walking half way across town.

"You uh," Marceline came up behind me, peeking over my shoulder. It didn't take much effort, she was taller than me. "Wanna stay for a while? My dad can give you a ride when he gets back from work." She must have seen that I wasn't keen on setting foot out there.

"Yeah, I'd like that."

* * *

**I think I should be done with Guy real soon, I'm trying to ease us into the story here. **

**Thank you for reading! **


	4. Chapter 4

Marshall and Fionna were no longer in the living room by the time Marceline and I entered, though they had left the light on. I thought about asking Marceline where they had went but of course she wouldn't know. She was with me the entire time; like I could forget. I also felt it might be intrusive of me, so I stayed quiet instead.

Marceline gestured for me to take a seat before walking towards the television set opposite the sofa. I took a moment to look around the room since I hadn't gotten much time when I was in there before with Marshall and Fionna. I had been too busy fighting off my nerves or laughing at Fionna's odd antics.

The living room was nice, small but pleasant all the same. The walls were a light salmon and the floor was covered with a blue carpet. That combination shouldn't have worked but it did. All in all it was comforting. I couldn't say the same for the red sofa, though.

"You wanna watch a film or something?" Marceline asked, though it didn't seem like I had much of a choice; she was already pulling out and examining DVD cases.

"Sure." I said anyway.

"Which one do you fancy?" She held up four cases. They all looked like horror films to me, blood and pictures of apparently terrified women plastered on the front. I bent forward from my place on the couch and spotted one that looked less scary.

"That one." I pointed at a case with a picture of a couple as a cover.

Marceline flipped it around so she could see and her almost wicked grin made me regret my decision right away.

"_A Marriage With Heart._"She read aloud."Awesome pick, Bonnie. That's the best one." She winked, succeeding in making my stomach flutter. Damn butterflies. It was probably because I was worried about the plot of the film I had chosen.

Yeah, that's what it was.

Marceline turned on the T.V, popped the dvd into the player, and moved to turn the lights off. Which didn't ease my nerves. But if I had accidentally pick a horror film, Marceline wouldn't be able to spot my disappointment in the dark.

It's not that I was afraid of scary films, to me they were dumb. The storylines and plot twists could be figured out easily once it was thought about, and the foreshadowing was usually so obvious. It was the jump scares that I didn't care for. I'd always get a small shock when the bad guy jumped out of nowhere. And when the music blurted during a tense scene? That _always_ made me jump.

I was braced through the film's introduction, waiting for a monster or murderer to pop up and scare the spit out of me, but was relieved when nothing happened. The beginning was about a couple; the average brown haired guy and the equally average skinny blonde living out an average marriage.

The title faded into view proving it was called _A Marriage With Heart._ It was then that I noticed Marceline flicking her eyes from the television to me repeatedly. I was going to ask her what was wrong when a terrible scream tore from the speakers as a hand punched through the blonde's chest, ripping out her heart.

A scream almost tore through me too, but it caught in my throat. And thank the heavens for that because Marceline had already dissolved into hysterics over me jumping out of my skin.

"With _heart, _get it?" She slapped a hand to her forehead, I had no idea how she found it so funny.

"Yeah, hilarious." I tried to sound sarcastic but my voice shook too much to get the point across.

"Aww." She cooed. "You wanna snuggle up to keep all the baddies away?" Marceline puckered her lips at me, patting the space between us.

Oh, she wanted to mess with me, huh?

Well, two could play that game, Miss Abadeer.

"I thought you'd never ask." I pouted, fluttering my eyelashes and making kissy sounds at her.

I expected her to laugh or say _that's pretty weird_, but she didn't. She didn't do _anything. _She froze, and time came to halt along with her.

I was staring at her and she was staring right back, holding each others gaze. Neither of us wanting to be the first to look away.

Her face looked red, a really vivid red, but that could have just been caused by the colors from the TV. Or, more than likely, I had just made things rather embarrassing for both of us.

It was probably that.

By this time I was planning an escape strategy. Faking a phone call or text message would be too obvious, she'd know I was lying. I was ready to 'accidentally' spill something on my clothes to excuse myself, but then I remembered I wasn't even holding a drink. Maybe -

"You're fun, Bonnie." Marceline was chuckling. I could have passed out from the overwhelming sense of relief. I had thought I'd really messed everything up. Whatever 'everything' was. "Half expected you to freak or somethin' like that."

"Me? No way." I waved my hand in front of my face, banishing the thought of me freaking out.

Okay, so I'd almost started talking myself into jumping out of a window, but it wasn't that huge of a freak out. I felt stupid. My face was burning over something as small as an awkward moment between us. How silly of me.

I threw Marceline a weak grin and turned back to the TV. Another woman, the next victim I assumed, was wandering around a dark office building. Of course it was night time and she was alone. That's totally safe, right? Nothing would ever pop out and attack her while her guard was down. A large person wearing a plain white mask, plain for the blood splatters anyway, launched out from a cubicle to tear out her heart.

"How unpredictable." I mumbled, hoping Marceline would pick up on my sarcasm.

The scariest thing about it was how the actress actually got the role in the first place. She was dreadful at acting.

"Man, it looks like she couldn't give a damn!" Marceline laughed. "Think she'd notice she's missing her heart. She's just kinda stood there looking at him, oh man!"

"I'd notice if someone was dangling it in front of my face like that. How is she still standing?"

We fell into more laughter then and it carried on through the rest of the film. It was nice, comfortable even, and surprisingly fun.

"Hey," Marceline said beside me, she kept her eyes ahead. "You alright?"

I followed suit and stayed facing the television screen. "Yeah, the film's not that scary."

"That's not why I was asking." Smiling and shaking her head, she turned to face me and then crossed her legs. I did the same so we were parallel to each other. "I mean, y'know, the Guy stuff."

In truth, I'd almost forgotten about it. All the fun with Marceline had pushed the arguments from my mind. Laughter is the best medicine, after all.

"I'm fine, I think." I sighed as she nodded, urging me to go on. "I feel better than I did anyway." _Thanks to you,_ I wanted to add but didn't.

Marceline was staring at me, if the look in her eyes meant anything, I couldn't tell. "Gonna forgive him?" She had focused on my entirely, that strange something still alight in her eyes. Trying to figure out what that something was did nothing, I was more interested in watching the lights from the TV dance across her face.

In that light her face looked sharp, but beautiful. Her cheekbones were more pronounced, eyes glinting, her small mouth settled on a perfect jawline. Marceline really was beautiful, though perhaps that wasn't the best time to notice.

"I think I can forgive him." I'd never been one to hold a grudge. That was like burning yourself and expecting the other person to feel pain, or drinking poison and expecting them to die. I would only be hurting myself, and I wasn't one for self-torture. "Dating him is out of the question. And being polite towards him is... something I have to think about."

After a little pause, Marceline smiled and nodded. "I get it. Pretty mature of you. You want a drink or something?"

The quick change in conversation spun me a little. "Huh?"

"Non alcoholic, jeez Bonnibel." She stood. "Is coke okay?"

While nodding, I stood too. I felt the need to explain I never thought she meant an alcoholic drink, but Marceline didn't seem bothered either way.

We spent longer in the kitchen than I thought we would. Instead of grabbing our drinks and watching the end of that terrible movie, we stayed there and talked instead. Marceline sat on the worktop, swinging her legs, while I sat at the dining table opposite her.

We talked about Simon, Mr. Petikrov, and how she'd came to know him. Apparently her dad, Hunson Abadeer, and Simon were friends before Marceline and Marshall were born. They ended up growing close when Simon hit a rocky patch with his work and home life and Hunsen offered him a place on the couch for a week. But that week turned into a few years, and the couch turned into a room of his own. So he helped raise the children to return the favor. I didn't ask where their mother was, or what had happened to her.

Simon moved out of the house a few years ago and married a woman called Betty, it was obvious that Marceline liked her. Her eyes softened and she talked about how well Betty took care of her uncle. It was cute.

"Where is your dad?" It was getting later and I wondered if he was even due home that day.

"Work." Marceline jumped from the workplace and took my empty glass from the table. "He works for the law firm on the upper-side of town. Wants me to work there when I leave school, not interested though. I'm more the music type, not the 'wearing a suit and sitting behind a desk' type. Figured if I failed my classes I can't even apply for that work."

"Well that's stupid, you shouldn't fail on purpose Marceline." Joining her at the sink I gave her a frown, just like my mother would whenever I was doing something silly.

"I know, I'm trying with 'em again now, though. Especially since I'm in Simon's class this year."

"Well, I think you're right. About being the music type, I mean. You're good from the bits I heard earlier, you were playing bass right?" I almost dropped the glass I was drying but Marceline's hand snapped out and steadied mine before it fell. Her fingers were cool as they wrapped around mine. She pulled back quickly, though, and I had to ignore the small swell of disappointment that arose in me.

"Thanks, Bonnie. You can come hang out with us next practise if you want. I'll tell Guy to deal with it, though I think he'd love a chance to show off in front of you." Marceline wiggled her eyebrows while I rolled my eyes.

She looked out of the kitchen towards the front door, and I was about to ask if something was wrong when I heard the door open and a man's voice shout "I'm home kids!".

"'Sup dad!" I heard Marshall's voice float from upstairs. "Fionna's staying over, is that cool?"

"It's never _cool_, Marshall. It'll be cool when you get your own place, then you can do whatever you want!" The man yelled. "But it's too late to send her home now."

He came through into the kitchen and swooped Marceline up in his arms quicker than I could register. "There's daddies little girl!"

'Daddies little girl'popped her head out from his grip, her frowning face was red. Adorable.

"Bonnie." She gasped out, apparently that grip was pretty tight. "This is my dad, Hunson Abadeer. Daddy," She pushed him away by forcing a hand into his chest. "This is Bonnibel Bubblegum."

Damn. Why did she have to use my second name.

The man, Hunson, backed off from his daughter with a pout and let his eyes fall on me. I awaited the puns and jokes about my second name, but none came. "Bonnibel? Very nice, suits you." He shook my hand with a wide grin I couldn't help but mimic.

"Thank you, Mr Abadeer."

"Oh, please. Call me Hunson. Are you staying over too, Bonnibel?"

Marceline gave me a shrug when my eyes found her, I guess that meant I was free to do whatever I wanted.

Declining Hunson's kind offer seemed like a bad idea. It was much darker now and getting on pretty late. My mind flashed back to the intoxicated man in the street. I was lucky that time, he didn't seem angry. Though I might not be as lucky again. Suppressing a shudder at the possibilities, I nodded at Hunson.

"If it's no problem I'll check with my parents."

Marceline's father threw an arm around my shoulder and assured me that no, it wasn't a problem and went to make a pot of coffee for himself.

The phone call wasn't fun. I tried calling home first but no one was there yet, so I called the office. It took a little while for the receptionist to put me through and when she finally did it was my Uncle Pepperwood that answered.

"Pepperwood." His short hello was clipped and harsh, it must be busy.

"Hey, it's me." I said. "Is it okay if I stay over at a friends house tonight?"

"Oh, Bonnibel, It's you." His voice softened which made me smile, there was the uncle I loved. "You do remember it's a school night?"

I sighed, this might not be easy. "I do, but I'm over at Marceline's and her dad said I could stay. Saves me heading home in the dark."

"Who's Marceline?"

"My friend." Could I even call her a friend? We'd been hanging out and now I was staying over. So it was fine, right?

"I've never heard you talk about her."

"Please, Peps?" I begged.

There was a pause.

"Will there be any boys there?"

"Yeah, her brother."

That was always my uncle's go-to question. I don't know why he worried so much, he knew I was responsible. A lot more than most people at least.

At my uncle's next question, a rough sigh tore through me as I dragged a hand down my face.

"_Yes, _Marshall has to stay here. _He_ _lives here._"

"Alright." Uncle Pepperwood said. "But be home early tomorrow for school, and make sure you're safe. Oh, and Bon?"

"Yeah?"

"Love you."

I smiled. "Love you too, bye."

That was one of the things I adored about my Uncle. He never ended a conversation without saying he loved me. It was nice to hear it everyday. I snapped my phone shut and put it bag in my bag, then noticed Marceline leaning against the door frame at the end of the hall.

I thought she would make fun of the little conversation I had. Her smile, the kind that made her cheeks look super chubby, told me she wasn't going to laugh at me. Maybe she thought it was cute? Not that I cared what Marceline found cute.

I didn't care at all.

I mean, whatever, maybe I cared a little.

"Hey, Marcy!" Hunson bellowed from another room in the house. I jumped when he burst from the cupboard under the stairs, clutching at some blankets. "Where do you want these?"

Marceline didn't seem phased by his random appearance, it was probably commonplace in this household. "Upstairs, but I can do that."

"Your old man can handle a few blankets, Marceline."

Though, I didn't think he could. He was teetering on the stairs, and I wasn't sure he could see where he was going.  
"My room's the other way!" Marceline joined me at the bottom of the stairs, both of us watching him take a left at the top.

"I know!" Was her father's reply.

Marceline didn't need to see my raised eyebrow to know I was confused.

"Just wait for it." She said.

I did wait, for what, I didn't know. It wasn't long until I heard a girl, probably Fionna, scream. I burst out laughing right away, guessing that Hunson had just disturbed Marshall and Fionna in the middle of... Well, that was private.

"Dad, what the fu-" A thump came from upstairs. "Stop throwing pillows at me!"

"We don't use that language in this house. And we don't do _that _either, not under my roof." Marceline was cracking up with terribly loud snorts of laughter by this time, and I wasn't far behind. I could imagine the look on Marshall's face. Oh, and poor Fionna's. Marceline had thrown a hand around her waist and was panting, I couldn't hold back my laughter any more than she could.

"Marceline, shut the hell up!" We heard Marshall cry, the embarrassment dripping off his words, that only made her worse.

"C'mon." Marceline grabbed my hand and we began to ascend the stairs. "If I listen to anymore of that stuff I'm gonna laugh myself to death."

We didn't look in the direction of Marshall's room as we passed, Marceline probably didn't want to see whatever her dad was yelling about. I'm not sure I did either.

Marceline's room wasn't like I thought it'd be. I assumed it would be a little messy, or unorganised. But it was neat. Her walls were a light purple, and she had a red couch lining one of her walls. There was also a walk in wardrobe and a door which lead to a personal bathroom. I didn't expect her to have that much room in a house that small.

"You needing something to change into?" Marceline dropped onto her bed to unlace her boots.

"Oh, yes please."

"My wardrobe's over there." Not that I could miss it, it was huge. "Help yourself."

Nodding I made my way over to it and pushed the door aside. The inside was as neat as the rest of her room, and packed with all kinds of clothes. I was pulling out t-shirts when I heard Marceline's voice float through the room.

"Hey, what d'ya think they were doing in there?"

"Marshall and Fionna?"

"Yeah." I heard her boots fall on the floor.

"Uh..."

Marceline started laughing again. "Yeah, I think they were doing that too."

I have no idea what to say. I was an only child, I didn't know what I'd think about my brother or sister fooling around with someone just down the hall.

"I'm happy for him." That made me pause.

"What?"

"I'm happy for him." Marceline came to the door to lean on it, but she didn't look at me. She rested back against the door frame and examined the ceiling. "I like Fionna, she's fun. She's real sweet too, just the kinda girl Marsh needs. I hope it works out."

Fionna and Marshall did seem like they'd make a great couple. I already knew they cared about each other, anyone could see that. "I hope it works out too."

"Well I'll leave you to get changed." She left and shut the door behind her, flicking the light on from outside.

The shirt in my grasp was black, with a weird picture on the front, probably a band shirt. I removed my hoodie and jeans, then folded them before putting on the new garment. I spied some black shorts and threw them on too.

"Hey, could I leave my stuff..." I stopped in my tracks.

Marceline stood with her back to me; I'd walked in on her changing. And I couldn't help but notice, well, everything.

She was in her underwear, a matching purple set, her hair was tied up in a loose bun to show off the curve of her neck. Her back was flawless, shoulder blades visibly moving underneath liquid marble skin. Her back sloped down to a small, perfect, behind sitting at the top of two long legs.

I tried to swallow, compose myself, but it was difficult.

Really difficult.

"Enjoying the view?" Oh crumbs. Marceline had caught me staring.

Somehow I brought my eyes up to meet hers. Her arms were still above her head, fixing the bun in her hair. Her face was flushed, and surprisingly she seemed shy. Well, I'd be shy too if someone was ogling me like that. I wanted to tell her she had nothing to be shy about, but that would have seemed so strange.

"Oh god, s-sorry." I stammered, spinning on my heel so quickly I almost lost balance.

"It's uh, it's fine. I'll just go... put my clothes on."

That was the most embarrassing thing that had happened all day. Not the argument with Guy, or even Keila. No, it was definitely walking in on a half naked Marceline. It felt like my face was actually on fire and I wished her floor would just swallow me up. That would have been easier than having to look at Marceline again.

"Hey." I felt a cool hand on my shoulder and automatically tensed up. She wouldn't throw me out, no way. "Don't worry about it, it happens."

I peeked over my shoulder, mainly to make sure this time my friend was clothed but also because I was having real trouble making eye contact with her. "So you're not mad at me?"

"Mad at you?" Her hand was still lingering on my shoulder so she used it to spin me around. "Nah, no way. Don't worry about it."

Marceline glanced at her hand she was still holding to me then withdrew it to scratch at the back of her neck.

"Oh, I uh. I am really sorry though." I mumbled.

"C'mon, forget about it." Man, if only it was that easy. "You ready for bed?"

"What?" I almost yelled.

"I mean like, sleeping!" Her hands were comically waving about in front of her face, she was almost as flushed as me. "I'll go grab the extra bedding from my dad." And with that she ran out of the room.

I collapsed onto the edge of her bed, letting my head fall into my hands.

"Man, I'm so dumb."


	5. Chapter 5 - Final

**Oh wow, this took so long. This is the last chapter and I threw some smut in there as an apology for taking my time with this. Enjoy!**

I was still perched on the edge of Marceline's narrow bed when she returned with blankets, still embarrassed and positive the redness of my face was making it painfully obvious. Marceline didn't look at me as she set the bedding on the ground. I wasn't sure if I was happy or sad about that. On one hand, she didn't see my blushing face, but on the other it made me think she was as embarrassed as I was. I mean, I'd barged in on her changing for crying out loud, we weren't nearly as close for that to be okay. And I thought that maybe we wouldn't ever be after that.

I thanked Marceline without looking at her and climbed into my makeshift bed on the floor, but Marceline didn't say anything or move to walk away. I risked a peek out from the covers and saw she was staring at me, standing above me as I laid down.

"Stop it." She said.

"Um, stop what?" I immediately started running my recent movements through my mind, examining them over and over, wondering if I'd done something else wrong whilst climbing into bed.

"Overthinking junk." Marceline crouched down so she didn't tower over me anymore, but she still didn't make eye contact. "I'm not mad at you or anything. Are you embarrassed 'cause you walked in on me?"

Her face was red too, so I didn't know why she was asking me how I felt. There was no use lying though. "A little. I really am sorry."

"Quit apologizing." Marceline pushed herself from the floor and tumbled backwards onto her bed. "Practice really took it out of me today, sorry if I fall asleep pretty early on you."

"It's no problem, the stress of today kinda took it out of me too."

We both fell quiet, all I heard was Marceline's footfalls as she went to turn her bedroom light off and return to bed. The room fell into darkness and it hit me how tired I was, I could have fallen asleep in the blink of an eye if it wasn't for how uncomfortable the floor was. It felt like laying on stone. I maneuvered a blanket below me, but that didn't help one bit. God knows how long I struggled, trying to find a comfy sleeping position, and eventually I huffed and threw my hands against the carpeted floor.

I needed my rest; it was a school night after all, and I was a firm believer in getting at least a full eight hours. At that rate I wasn't going to get any hours, maybe one if I was lucky.

I frowned at the ceiling for a while, almost as if it were to blame for my predicament, then pushed myself away from the floor to pad to Marceline's bed.

"Hey." I whispered to her back.

Nothing.

"Hey," I repeated, prodding her on the only part of her face I could see; her cheek. "Are you awake?"

A thin hand came up to slap mine away, though it wasn't painful, and I was sure she mumbled some curses under her breath.  
"Am now." Marceline muttered. "What's up?"

"Can I jump in? The floor's hard, maybe we could top and tail?"

She rolled over onto her side to face me, letting the covers fall from the rest of her face. I bit back laughter at the bedhead she was already rocking, then grinned at her to cover it.

"Top and... What?"

"Top and tail. Y'know, where one person sleeps at the top of the bed and the other sleeps at the bottom?"

"Oh." She mumbled and rubbed her eyes. "So like, a face-to-foot deal? Whatever floats your boat, Bon."

Marceline moved over a few inches to make room and I took that as an invitation to climb in, so I smiled a 'thank you' and went to grab my pillow from the ground, then placed in near her feet.

The bed felt like heaven compared to my old sleeping spot, though that wasn't a difficult feat to achieve. My whole body sank into the mattress, and I sighed with complete satisfaction. The sheets felt like they were made of the softest silk and their scents drifted to me. I could smell lavender, orchids and... Feet.

"Jesus, Marceline." I sat up to frown at her, not sure if she could even see me in the dark. But it was the thought that counted. "I don't mean to be rude, but your feet reek."

"Oh." I heard her drone. "Yeah, they probably do. I had gym this morning, didn't get a chance to wash up." She did have the decency to pull her feet away from my nose, at least.

"Right. Well, I'm not sleeping near those."

Before she could ask what I was doing, which I was sure she would have, I'd already joined her at the top of the bed. She was still lounging on her side so I turned to lay on my back.

"What did you do in gym?" I asked after a pause. I peeked a look at her from the corner of my eye to check her reaction to our closeness, but she didn't seem to hate it. That was a good sign.

"Um, basketball. I'm pretty good."

"I'll come watch sometime."

I thought I heard her whisper out a reply, but my exhaustion had been pulling at me for a while, lowering my eyelids and bringing me closer to slumber.

"Goodnight, Bonnibel." Was all I heard as everything slipped away into darkness.

It was morning. I could tell from the feeling of warm sunlight pouring over my skin, and the one horrid ray that was blinding me. There was countless places for that lone ray to shine, but of course it would choose to slip through a gap in my curtains and right into my eyes.

Suddenly I remembered that it was not my bedroom I was occupying, nor was it my bed. It was Marceline's.

My eyes snapped open, but I had to clamp them shut again until they adjusted to the unkind onslaught of sunlight. I tested the waters and blinked my eyes open once more, only to notice just how close Marceline and I were. Our noses were almost brushing, I felt her steady breath flutter across my mouth and chin. I admittedly took a moment to admire the shadows her long lashes cast down her cheeks.

She looked so peaceful, as sleeping people do, but there was something more. Marceline looked at ease, as if she was content with the whole world, or wasn't affected by anything around her. It was as if she lived in her own little bubble where worries and fear were cast aside. I wondered what that felt like, but I realized in that moment, I was content, too.

Content until I remembered I hadn't set an alarm for school anyway.

"Ficken." I cursed under my breath, squeezing my eyes shut and resisting the urge to bang my head on something. Considering Marceline was one inch away from me, that wouldn't have been a smart move on my part. I pursed my lips and glanced back at Marceline, thankfully she hadn't woken, I didn't need her waking up and seeing how close our faces were.

I inched backwards intending to swing my legs over the side of her bed, but I overshot and tumbled back onto the floor instead. That time I didn't wait to see if I'd disturbed my friend, she did need to be awake too. Though I didn't think she really cared about punctuality, afterall she hadn't bothered to set an alarm either.

I'd successfully wiggled into my jeans, but my shirt was putting up one hell of a fight. I must have twisted it while trying to pull it over my head because I'd gotten myself caught in it. My arms were through just fine, dangling feebly above me. I tried to shake my torso, edge the shirt down, but wiggling did nothing. Nothing but make me look stupid.

"Need some help there?" That was Marceline, awake at last. I wished that my face wasn't covered by fabric so I could scowl at her and say 'Duh.' but I wasn't in the best position right then.

I settled for stuttering out a weak, "Please." as I ignored her laughter. I hoped it wasn't aimed at the embarrassing neon pink bra I was donning, but I couldn't blame her. I wasn't even sure why I owned that thing, let alone wore it.

I felt Marceline's hands attempt to find the hem of my twisted T shirt, then grip it and yank it down, setting my head free of it's cloth prison. I could see her then, and couldn't miss the flush of her usually pale cheeks. The look of hesitation on her face confused me for a second until I noticed she still had handfuls of my top. She seemed to be struggling with herself, perhaps wondering if she should continue pulling it down or leave me to do it.

After a second she eased the fabric down my sides, and I felt the light scrape of her nails against my skin, leaving slow, scorching trails down to my hips. I bit back a pout when she pulled her hands away, breaking all contact.

I looked up to say something, what, I don't know. Because as cliche as it sounded, I got lost in the sight of her. The shadows dancing across her skin, the glint and depth of her eyes, but mainly the way she took her bottom lip between her teeth.

I cleared my throat, partly to break the silence, but also to make sure I had enough brain activity left to string a sentence together.

"We should get ready for school," Finally words came to me. "I mean, you should get ready and I should go home. But I'd get ready, too. Well, I'd be getting ready just not... here." I finished feebly, defeated. She must have thought I was a bumbling idiot, I couldn't blame her. I was tripping over a simple sentence for no good reason. Unless fighting off an attack of butterflies was classed a reason.

"Yeah," She laughed, thankfully not picking on me for my terrible stuttering. "Do you want breakfast before you go home?"

"I don't think I'll have time."

Marceline nodded and went to throw clothes around in her closet, looking for school attire I figured. I ducked before a pair of shorts could hit me in the face.

"Shame," I heard her muffled voice float through. "Marshal's probably gonna be pissed at me for laughing at him and Fionna last night, gonna be an awkward breakfast. Even more awkward than that time Daddy found his porn stash in the bathroom."

I couldn't help but laugh, _poor Marshal. _

"Anyway," She said once my giggling died down and I ducked another flying piece of clothing. "I'll see you at school."

Her statement sounded more like a question than a goodbye, so as I pulled my bag onto my shoulder I said, "Yeah, I'll see you later. Oh, and thanks for letting me stay."

Marceline popped her head around the corner of her closet to grin at me. "Anytime."

She sounded like she meant it.

"You got a pencil I could borrow, B?" Finn asked me. We were in art class, and considering how bad I was at anything artistic, I should have been paying attention. Instead of listening to the teacher (whose name I didn't catch) drone on about different strokes and control, I was staring out of the window, finding anything and everything more interesting than that class.

"Here," I said, snapping back to reality. "Take mine."

"You sure?" Finn asked, reaching out for the pencil I was handing him.

I liked Finn, he was such a sweetheart, always putting everyone else's feelings before his own. He used to have a small, but obvious crush on me, though lately I'd seen him making eyes at the new redheaded girl. I was sure I'd caught her stealing glances at him, too.

It was as convenient as it was adorable; I didn't want to be forced to break Finn's heart.

"Yeah, I have another in my bag." I made no move to retrieve it though, I hadn't even touched the sketch pad on our desk.

It had been a week since I stayed over at Marceline's house, and things had changed slightly because of it. I'd somehow joined Marceline and her friends for lunch. I'd gotten to know her brother better, and spent time hanging out with Fionna, just like I promised I would.

Even LSP had wiggled into the group and everyone seemed to like her, even if she did make hissing sounds at Guy all the time.

Art Class was chaotic. Apparently the other art teacher hadn't shown up for work, so both classes were being taught together. That was how Finn was sitting next to me, because he was a year younger, we never had class together. Not until then anyway.

My phone buzzed in my pocket then, and thankfully the teacher was yelling at a group of students trying to give themselves homemade tattoos with acrylic paint, so he didn't notice me slide my cell onto my lap. I had a text message.

_Party type thing at mine tonight - M_

I never had any idea why she felt the need to end her texts with 'M' all the time. I just put it down to being a cute quirk of hers. I was about to tap out a reply when another message buzzed in.

_And before you say 'so' it was obviously an invitation - M_

I pictured her rolling her eyes at me in exasperation, and couldn't fight the smile that brought to my face. I typed a quick message to ask her what a 'party type thing' was and got a reply almost instantly, as if she was expecting me to ask.

_Kinda a party, kinda not. You coming? - M_

I sent back, "Sure, see you then." and dropped my phone back into my bag.

"What're ya grinning at, B?" Finn asked. It seemed he only wanted my pencil to balance it on the tip of his nose like a performing seal, he was pretty good at it honestly.

"I just got invited to Marceline's party type thing, or whatever she's calling it."

"Oh," He dropped the pencil, so I snatched it out of the air before it could clatter to the ground. Finn pulled an impressed looking face before saying, "I think I'm invited, Fi shouted something like that at me earlier."

"Great," I smiled. "I might see you tonight then."

He threw me a thumbs up and handed me my bag as the school bell went off.

"Such a gentlemen." I cooed, he turned pink. "Thanks, Finn."

The trip to Marceline's house turned out much simpler than the first time I visited. LSP and I took a cab. Bongo, the band's drummer, had invited her along too, and I was glad of it. Lord knows how that had happened though, I wasn't aware those two even knew each other. LSP's presence was nice, her manic chatter distracted me from my nerves, though I wasn't sure why I had any in the first place.

"...So I was all, 'You can't buy that, Melissa.' and she was all, 'Oh my god, yes I can' And I told her she can't 'cause I already bought that dress. And do you know what she did?" LSP looked at me from the other side of the cab, a frown on her face because of her story.

"She bought it?"

"She totally bought it!" my friend yelled and tossed her arms in the air. "What the cabbage, right?"

"Right." I nodded, trying my best to look appalled and understanding. Though in all honestly, I wasn't feeling either.

Our cab pulled up outside of Marceline's house, so LSP and I split the fare and jumped out.

"I mean, it's not like I think she'd look ugly in the dress." LSP said as the cab driver pulled away. "But I have the same one, so come on, it's obvious I'd look better in it. It's not my fault I'm smokin' hot, y'know?"

"Yeah," I mock-sighed. "Sounds like a real curse."

LSP nodded solemnly, shut her eyes and whispered, "Such a curse."

Before I could humor her further, the front door flew open and Hunson Abadeer came thundering out of it, nearly running into the two of us.

"Oh," He skidded to a halt before he could knock us down. "Bonnibel! Hello again. You and your friend go right inside, everyone's in the living room."

With that, Hunson took off again, jumped into his car and tore out of the driveway whilst shouting, "Don't trash the place!" out of the window.

"Who was that?" LSP asked as I led her through the front door, Hunson had left it hanging open in his rush.

"Hunson Abadeer. Marceline and Marshal's dad."

"Hey, first name basis with the folks, huh?" She directed a playful elbow into my ribcage and wiggled her shaped eyebrows at me.

I didn't know what she was trying to imply, I never did, so I shook my head at her before pushing open the living room door. As I did, music poured out into the hallway, and I was surprised I never hear it before entering the house.

The first person I saw was Finn, I smiled at him after he gave me a little wave in hello. He was sitting with redheaded girl in his year at school, and judging by the googly eyes she was smothering him with, everything seemed to be going well.

Fionna and Marshal weren't far away from the young couple. They were sitting on the floor, messing around with a deck of cards and playing a game I'd never seen before.

LSP moved from behind me in the doorway and bounced over to Bongo, saying her greetings to an unlikely friend. Next to Bongo sat Keila.

We caught eyes so I gave her an awkward nod and tried for a smile. She replied with a stunning grin and a, "Heya, Bon!" just loud enough to make out over the music blaring from the TV.

We'd spoken a little bit in the past week. I'd apologized for being rude to her at practise, she'd apologized for the fact I ever got involved with Guy, who thankfully wasn't there.

"Bonnie's here?" I heard someone shout from the next room. I took a step out of the doorway and turned towards the voice. Marceline stepped out of the kitchen, a bottle of beer in one hand and a glass of something red in the other. "Hey." She smiled.

"Hey... is that red wine?" I asked her, pointing to the glass she was holding.

Marceline lifted it. "This? Vodka and cranberry, I'm not made o' money."

When we arrived back in the front room, Marceline handed the beer bottle to Keila and plonked down on the floor beside her. I didn't know where I should sit, thankfully Marceline decided for me and began patting the spot next to her and smiling at me.

I stepped over Fionna's legs, not before saying hello to her and Marshal, and joined Keila and Marceline.

"Oh," Marceline turned to me. "Sorry, I didn't ask if you wanted something?"

"Wanted something?"

"Yeah, you know, something to drink." She took a sip of her own then grimaced. "Not enough cranberry." She murmured to herself. "Hey Bongo!"

Bongo turned, he was on his way out of the door with LSP. "Yeah?" He yelled, trying to make his voice loud enough to reach her.

"You going to the kitchen?" Marceline asked him.

"Yeah, why? You wantin' something?" LSP didn't bother waiting for her friend, she spun on her heel and headed towards to kitchen first.

"Yeah, could you fill this with more cranberry?" She stood, leaning over her brother and handed him her glass. "Bonnie, what do you want?" She asked me over her shoulder.

"Um." I wasn't incredibly experienced with alcohol. I'd drank before, but certainly didn't know enough to know drink names or even my own preference. "I'll have whatever you're having."

That seemed to satisfy her, she nodded and told Bongo what we wanted. It didn't take long for him to come back with both of our drinks, LSP trailed behind him and whined about not only having to carry her own drink, but Bongo's too.

I can't say I was fond of vodka and cranberry. The vodka burned on the way down, and I could have sworn I felt it burning in my stomach, too. The cranberry took the edge off a little, but didn't do a good job of smothering the harsh taste of alcohol in my drink.

It got easier to gulp down after my third glass. And as I looked around, I noticed no one else seemed to be having an issue with their drinking. LSP was curled up on a chair, wheezing because of a joke Bongo told five minutes ago. Finn was declaring how much he wanted to spend time playing video games with his little lady friend, whose name I never found out. I wasn't even sure if it was okay for Finn to be drinking, but no one else had a problem with it, not even his cousin. Fionna was pretty drunk too, she was yelling about how Marshal's favorite wrestler was a weakling, and Marshal was a weakling for supporting him. That ended in them having a bunch of armwrestling matches. Fionna always won.

"Hey!" Kiela yelled at everyone. "Hey! Guys, lets play ring of fire!"

I looked up at her, it took a second to focus properly. "What's 'ring of fire'?"

"It's this game..." She said, and she looked confused, like she was trying to remember something.

"Yeah, we know it's a game, Keila." Marceline chuckled from my side. She turned to me and explained, "You gather a bunch of people around a circle of cards. Then you go around the circle and the person picks a card, each one means a different thing. So uh, if you pick up a card with seven on it, it means heaven. You point to the sky. Last person to do it loses and has to drink."

"Oh," I sort of understood. "But I don't know what the rest mean."

"It's alright." She came closer and nudged me with her shoulder. "Stick near me and I'll help you out."

Keila snatched the cards from the floor, left there by Marshal and Fionna when they were messing around with them earlier on in the night, and made a huge circle with the cards, facing them down. She disappeared for a minute and returned with a large pint glass.

"What's that for?" I whispered to Marceline as Keila placed it in the center of the circle.

"When someone picks up a king card you gotta pour some of your drink into that glass." She pointed at it as if I'd forgotten all about it. Honestly I kind of had forgotten already. "Then whoever picks up the last king card has to drink it."

"But everyone has different drinks!" I couldn't imagine drinking whatever awful concoction we'd create.

"That's why it's so fun." Her wink sent butterflies through my stomach, I blamed it on the alcohol. She must have thought I looked wary so she said, "You wanna play with soda instead?"

I glanced around the room, at Keila laughing too hard, Marshal swaying with a huge grin on his face, LSP joining Bongo in his air-drum solo. It looked like fun.

"No, it's okay. I want to. I'll have like, one or two drinks with you guys." I said, wondering what harm could that do.

"There's no such thing as one or two drinks in this game, Bonnie."

She was right.

I didn't know how long it had been since we started that game, and I don't think I cared at the time. But one thing I knew was that I definitely had more than two drinks. My head was swimming, or spinning, I really couldn't pin down which one described it better. My body felt light and nice, glowing, though that didn't make any sense to me. It was hard to focus on anything, look at people, but I couldn't help smiling.

"Waterfall!" I yelled as I picked up the ace card. I was becoming familiar with the rules now. The rule for that card was a person couldn't stop drinking until the person next to them did. I was feeling brave, so I promised myself I'd drink as much as I possibly could. I drew the glass to my lips and began to gulp down my drink. Everyone else started to drink too.

It felt like I was taking huge gulps with my drink, Marceline was looking at me, almost begging me to stop so she could too, without losing the game. I turned to her, glass still attached to my lips, and raised my eyebrows, challenging her.

She seemed to accept, she raised her glass even higher, her eyebrows along with it.

Eventually I gave in, I could hardly breathe and my head was all over the place already. The second I stopped drinking, she stopped too, the waterfall continuing without us.

"Are you trying to outdo me, Miss Bubblegum?" She murmured, resting her arm against mine.

I grinned at her, the alcohol made me brave. "Maybe I am, Miss Adabeer. What would you do about it?"

It seemed like that took her by surprise, but she quickly took on a playful smirk and said, "Kick your ass at whatever game you're playing."

"Bring it on." I grinned.

The game continued, Marceline and I tried to outdo each other with whatever task the card chose for us. She won on nine, I won on five, so on and so forth.

After a long while the last king card was chosen.

"LSP!" Finn yelled. "You have to drink the mixture!"

LSP stared at the drink in the middle of the cards. She looked terrified. From what I understood, it was a mix of vodka, lager, beer, rum and somehow milk.

"Do I have to?" LSP asked us all.

"You picked the last king." I sang. "It's the rules."

"Fine." She glared at me, but I knew she couldn't stay mad at me forever.

Watching my friend drink that horrid concoction was strangely hilarious, I mean sure, I felt really bad for her. But the faces she pulled were just comical. Marceline and I shared a look before we dissolved into hysterics, it ended up with her leaning on me and I holding my sides together.

It wasn't long after that when everyone decided it was time to call it a night.

"Bonbon!" LSP shouted from the doorway. I was still sitting on the floor with Marceline, talking about nothing in particular, but it felt good. "You wanna share a cab?"

I glanced at the clock hung in the front room, it was pretty late. But the thought of going home drunk and having to face the wrath of not only my parents, but my uncle Pepperwood too, was not a fun thought.

"Uh, I uh, I guess now's a good time." I stood, but the action was much easier said than done. The second I got to me feet I wanted to fall back down and lay there forever.

"You can stay here if you want?" Marceline said to me as she stood. "Top and tail?" Her grin was adorable, yet strangely taunting.

"Can I?" I asked, even though I was already trying to remember where I'd left my phone, I needed to tell my parents I was staying out after all.

"Of course, don't even need to ask."

Marceline left the room, probably to wish everyone a safe journey as they left, and I sent a text message to Pepperwood to let him know I wouldn't be home until the morning.

Even Fionna was leaving, honestly, I wasn't surprised after what happened the last time she stayed over. I caught her placing a kiss on Marshal's cheek before she swung around and walked out of the front door, the way Marshal rubbed his face reminded me of a child wiping away the kiss of their parent. But the blush on his cheeks told me he enjoyed it.

"Bring it in, sugar!" LSP yelled at me, even though we were stood at the front door and she had no need to yell anymore. Before I could react she had be in her grasp, hugging me way too tightly. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah, I'll call you." I wheezed, her grip really was strong. She let go, blew everyone a kiss and went on her way.

After everybody had left I followed Marceline to the kitchen.

"Ugh." She sighed. "Look at this mess."

The kitchen was littered with bottles, crumpled cans and glasses stained with lipstick. And I'm pretty sure I was a load of cigarette butts clogging the sink too.

"Ain't no way in hell I'm cleaning this." She said. "I'll get Marshal to do it tomorrow. Bribe him with gummy worms and blackmail."

I couldn't help but laugh at that.

"C'mon." Marceline walked towards me, took my hand and dragged me out the kitchen.

"Where are we going?" Marceline's hand was so soft, but I could feel the calluses of her fingertips grazing the back of my hand. It only made the rest of her skin feel like satin.

"My room, need to get your bed set up whilst I can still see straight."

"Thought we were topping and tailing?" I felt like I slurred, I really wasn't sure.

"Oh." She stopped walked when we reached the stairs. "Well, less stress for me."

Still, she carried on to her room, taking me with her. I had a little trouble with the stairs but Marceline lead me to the top without much hassle. We reached her room without any major injuries, where Marceline attempted to flick the light switch but slurred out, "Fuck it, turning on lights is hard." and shut the bedroom door.

"It's dark." I said, as if she couldn't already tell.

"Yeah... Hey, Bon?"

"Yeah?" I whispered into the dark. My eyes hadn't adjusted yet, Marceline was nothing but a shadow in the night.

"I'd uh, I wanna try something."

"Oh?" I didn't know how to reply to that, I didn't even know what she meant. Suddenly I felt her presence in front of me and took a step back, bumping into the wall.

"But, I wanna make sure you're cool with it first." Her voice made me think she was being shy, with the way it was quiet and quavering. I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol.

She took my face in one of her hands, thumb rubbing circles into my cheek.

"Cool, with what?" I mentally cursed my shaky voice.

I got my answer. Marceline leaned in slowly, ever so slowly, until her lips were one single breath away from mine.

"I just uh..." She whispered. Her breath was warm, and the sweet smell of alcohol and fruit drifted to my nose. "I uh-"

"Shh." I hushed her, done with her stalling, no matter how cute it was. I flung my arm, maybe a little too forcefully judging by her gasp, around her neck and entwined my fingers into the hair falling there. I didn't waste any time in pulling her towards me, pressing my lips against hers. I took her open mouth as an invitation to coax her tongue with my own.

Our tongue's started a slow dance, her shyness easing away as the seconds ticked by. I couldn't stop my other hand from trailing up her thigh and grasping at her waist, Marceline didn't mind, in fact she seemed to enjoy it. She moved closer to me, pushing her chest into mine, pressing her hands into my hair, pulling me towards her.

Somehow we'd moved backwards and Marceline's knees hit the edge of her bed. I made a point of catching her eye before smirking, pushing her down and then crawling up to join her, throwing my legs at either side of her.

"I'm cool with it." I said, looking down at her. She gazed up at me, confusion etched into her face. "If this is the thing you wanted to try." I added.

The alcohol was still making my head spin, not to mention making it harder to stop smiling. Or, as it turned out, touching Marceline. My hands had made their way to Marceline's sides, hers had made their way to my hips, holding me there.

I leaned down, bumping my nose against hers before kissing her again. I didn't notice how soft her lips were before, they were much softer than her actions. Not that I was complaining.

Marceline moved her hands to my waist, digging her fingers into sides, pulling me down on top of her. I pulled my lips from hers and moved back, smirking at the whine she let slip, and lifted my arms over my head. Marceline sat up, using my thighs to help her, and helped me out of my shirt. I wasted no time in removing hers and tossing it somewhere behind me, neither of us caring where.

Marceline's hands slowly slid up my back, making my skin tingle and burn, until she found the clip on my bra. With a tug it fell open, and the straps slid down my arms. Before it hit the bed, Marceline's hand had already cupped one of my breasts, rolling circles over my sensitive nipple.

I felt a moan escape me and I pushed myself further into Marceline's touch. Her mouth was at my neck, dusting kisses against my throat, and her other hand was trailing scorching lines up and down my bare thigh.

I tugged my hands from her head and hitched my skirt up around my stomach, not wanting to move away from her hands to do so. Marceline started drawing patterns in my skin with her nails and her hand rose higher and higher, until her fingers were at the hem of my panties.

I gasped as she pressed against the cloth, and couldn't help the way my hips bucked further into her grasp. I caught her mouth with my own as I opened my legs wider to make way for my hands. In a few drawn out motions I'd managed to undo the buttons of her jeans and slid my hand inside, I had to hold my moan as I realized Marceline had gone all night without underwear.

Marceline pushed the fabric of my panties aside to tease the small bundle of nerves there, it wasn't long until I felt her push a single finger inside of me. I did the same to her, making sure to curl and uncurl my finger, using my thumb to tease her the way she was teasing me.

She started a steady rhythm, pushing her finger in and out until she added a second. I whined and couldn't stop my hips from thrusting against her hand. As I quickened the pace of my hand against her, she did the same.

"Bonnie..." Marceline ground out, her forehead pressed to my shoulder. Her teeth grazed my collarbone, my neck and finally my jawline. Our lips were millimeters away, both breathing hard and fast.

I pressed my forehead against hers as my hips started moving of their own accord, I felt myself coming close. I slipped another finger into Marceline, and her long groan almost tipped me over the edge.

The feeling of Marceline grinding against me again and again was too much, I felt my body stiffen and shudder as I got the relief I craved. Somehow I kept pushing up and into Marceline, and she came soon after me, shaking as she rode it out against me.

Her teeth found my throat again as she gave a final moan before slumping down onto me, face on my chest. We were there for some time, both breathing heavily against each other until Marceline breathed out, "Wow."

"Yeah." I laughed, still feeling breathless.

I put my arms around her and laid us down, not bothering with a blanket. Marceline raised her head to stare at me, her face burning red. Her hair was messy, some sticking to the side of her neck, and I was sure mine looked no better.

"Hey, Bon?" She said as I pushed the hair from her face.

I hummed to let her know I was listening.

"I uh, I really like you, Bonnibel."

I tore my eyes from the slope of her neck to look at her. She was blushing even more, and I expected her to look away in embarrassment, but she didn't. Marceline kept her eyes fixed on mine, it was the most confident I'd ever seen her. I knew my face was burning red too.

"I really like you too," I murmured, running my thumb against her now swollen lips. "Dummy." I added for good measure.

She grinned, it was wide, bright and beautiful, and I couldn't help but grin as well. Marceline entwined her fingers with mine before reaching over and tugging a blanket over us both.

"Goodnight, Bon." She whispered, placing a kiss on the tip of my nose. She wound her arms around my waist, pulling me closer and rest her chin on top of my hair.

"Goodnight, Marcy."


End file.
